


Theory

by Colaris



Category: Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Fun, M/M, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27762382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colaris/pseuds/Colaris
Summary: A very short, but probably funny Scriddler story. Not much to say - just read it, if you like some stupid ideas and a very sassy Edward.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane & Edward Nygma
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4
Collections: A crow finds a riddle in the dark





	Theory

"John?" The former psychiatrist looked up slowly from his newspaper, carefully peering over the edge of the paper. He locked his eyes on the tinkerer, who sat across from him at the table in the kitchen and worked wildly on a broken coffee machine. The black-haired man had deep furrows on his forehead. Something seemed to be bothering him immensely. The thin man sighed calmly and hissed through clenched teeth: "Yes, Edward. I'm listening?” Basically, the inventor was not allowed to speak this early in the morning. The Master of Fear had not finished his first coffee yet. This was a necessary evil to get along with the extremely talkative man across from him and a working way to not lose the last bit of his mind after a few minutes in the same room with Edward. The Riddler could, in principle, talk without a break. It didn't matter if it was serious business or if he was just muttering incoherent nonsense. Jonathan let his good eye wander back to the newspaper and studied the top headline. Nothing special. After a while he heard the tinkerer's unusually reserved voice: “I've been thinking about it for half an eternity and before you laugh at me when I share my unattainable ingenuity with you - the theory I have now is as good as flawless. You will be surprised, Crane. I promise.” Scarecrow groaned under his breath and put the newspaper aside for good. It was useless. The other would probably only let him read in peace after he had shared his crazy idea. Usually these flashes of inspiration were nothing more than that: completely out of thin air, almost paranoid tries to explain certain concepts. The emphasis was clearly on trying. The brown-haired man shifted a little bit on the chair and replied nearly emotionless: “So, I will be surprised? Well, you have my undivided attention, Edward.” The Riddler slowly put his screwdriver on the table, then clasped his hands in a strange way. He took a few deep breaths, seeming to want to make this whole situation more dramatic than it probably was in the end. A few seconds passed before the inventor spoke mysteriously: "I think I've finally found the answer, who is under the mask."

The Master of Fear rolled his eyes noticeably. Batman again. Was there actually a day when he didn't have to listen to long talks about the Dark Knight? He himself was just as interested in unmasking the Bat, but just philosophizing about it didn't bring the superhero down in the end. The lean man replied almost bored: "Initiate me, omniscient Nygma and enlighten me unworthy servant with your wisdom." The addressed man snorted disparagingly and crossed his arms over his chest. Without any hurry, Jonathan took the orange pumpkin mug in his hand. While he was drinking the other began to speak again: “You can make fun of me as much as you want. I think I'm right this time. No, wait, I'm sure or no, even better, I know for sure! Bruce Wayne is under the mask.” The former psychiatrist snorted a huge gush of coffee over half of the breakfast table. He coughed a few times and wiped his torn lips, then raised an eyebrow skeptically. That was probably by far the stupidest idea the inventor had ever considered. He put down the porcelain and replied reserved: “Bruce Wayne? Did you happen to have had any alcohol today? It's so absurd that I don't really want to waste any more thought on it.” The Riddler suddenly reached across the table and fished his mug, sipped with relish from the black broth. The Master of Fear stared indignantly at him. Not only did he pester him with nonsense so early in the morning, now the cretin was drinking his coffee too. Edward leaned his head on his hand and said, grumbling a bit: "Very funny, John. But seriously. Wayne has the money, his own company that deals exclusively with novel technology and enough space to set up a small secret base under his huge ass mansion. The puzzle fits together perfectly. Why have we never thought about it?” “Because it's stupid, ”the brown-haired man whispered gruffly and added louder than planned, “He's a multimillionaire and certainly has better things to do than chase after us criminals in the nights. Why should someone with this high status worry about the common citizens of Gotham?” The Riddler shrugged slightly. Before he could reply, Jonathan had already snatched the mug out of his hand. An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Scarecrow shook his head gently and picked up his newspaper again, looking down between the lines. The inventor got up unexpectedly quickly. As he walked, he announced loudly: “You'll see, John. If the mask falls, Bruce Wayne will be under it. One hundred percent. And by the way: he's a billionaire.” The thin man stiffened instantly and the next moment threw one of the bread knives on the table at his partner.

Two years later. Edward sat cross-legged on the floor of the collecting cell, looking over at the whimpering figure next to him. His lips trembled with excitement. He watched some police officers strutting around the police headquarters in a completely disorganized manner, smirked at the pure chaos in front of him. After a while he closed his eyes and spoke almost proudly: “Now who was right in the end, John? Hmm? Am I still an idiot now for telling you that Bruce Wayne is Batman?” The other jailed criminals looked confused at the duo on the concrete. The Master of Fear had his arms wrapped around his knees and was rocking back and forth like a child. He stammered incomprehensible words. Before the Riddler could say anything out loud, Oswald interrupted him annoyed: “Let our good professor relax a little bit, Eddy. The poor guy is done for this night. I doubt he's even able to understand anything you're saying right now anyway. So do us all a favor and just shut the fuck up.” The tinkerer drew in the air sharply. He clenched his fists and shouted loudly into the cell: "He's just denying that I, Edward Nygma, was of course right!" A collective moan waved trough the building, which seemed to slowly spread across Gotham.


End file.
